A Dream for Christmas (1973)

          It should come as no surprise that some of the folks involved with this wholesome TV movie, including costar Lynn Hamilton and director Ralph Serensky, were also associated with The Waltons. Like that family-friendly series, A Dream for Christmas is a gentle story predicated on the notion that people are inherently good. What better message for this particular holiday? It’s also useful to note that inspirational stories about African-American characters were still somewhat rare in the early ’70s, when black moviegoers and TV watchers were more likely to see their experience through the prism of stereotypes that were at best reductive and at worst demeaning. With actors of color portraying all the principal roles in A Dream for Christmas, the film offers heartfelt themes related to community, family, religion, and sacrifice. So while it’s easy to criticize the picture for its soft touch, the world can never have enough narratives celebrating the virtues of diversity and kindness.

          Set in 1950, the picture opens in rural Arkansas. Reverend Will Douglas (Hari Rhodes) packs his family into a beat-up car for an impending move to Los Angeles, where Douglas is slated to become the pastor of a small church. His wife, Sarah (Lynn Hamilton), and his aging mother, Grandma Bessie (Beah Richards), accept the necessity of the move, but Will’s three kids are traumatized by leaving the only place they’ve ever known. Upon arriving in L.A., the Douglas family discovers that Will’s new church is endangered. Local developer George Briggs (Robert DoQui), who is also black, plans to raze the church so he can build a shopping center. With Christmas looming on the calendar, Will sets out to persuade George that the church should be preserved, then bolsters his argument by restoring the facility and expanding the congregation. Meanwhile, Will’s family experiences various hardships, ranging from health scares to schoolyard bullies.

          This being a feel-good telefilm, the story’s ending is never in much doubt, but the performers make the journey pleasant thanks to sincere acting. Rhodes, a rank-and-file film/TV actor who never found a breakout role, seems inhibited by the G-rated tone (and presumably a rushed shooting schedule), so he’s merely engaging and stalwart. Hamilton and Richards dig a bit deeper, though each is burdened with syrupy moments, and young George Spell comes off well as Will’s highly principled son. Yet perhaps the most admirable aspect of A Dream for Christmas is the way it expresses a gospel-inflected notion without oppressive religiosity. Even as the gooey score by David Rose tries to pluck viewers’ heartstrings, the cast’s earnest work keeps A Dream for Christmas relatively grounded.

A Dream for Christmas: FUNKY

Detroit 9000 (1973)

          During his Pulp Fiction afterglow, Quentin Tarantino created a short-lived Miramax subsidiary called Rolling Thunder, which distributed handful of indie movies and re-released faves from Tarantino’s days as a grindhouse habitué. One of the obscure ’70s movies that benefited from Tarantino’s largesse was Detroit 9000, a racially charged action thriller set in the urban wasteland of the Motor City. Yet while the picture has a lively cast and solid action scenes, it’s strictly a run-of-the-mill endeavor, so Tarantino’s imprimatur should not unreasonably raise expectations. Yes, Detroit 9000 is relatively unique in the way it blends elements of blaxploitation and mainstream action movies, and yes, the movie flips a cliché by portraying a black guy as the book-smart half of a buddy-cop duo—but novel elements can’t compensate for the lack of a memorable story. Detroit 9000 begins with crooks stealing millions from a fundraiser for a black gubernatorial candidate. The cops assigned to the case are street-smart white dude Det. Danny Bassett (Alex Rocco) and college-educated African-American Sgt. Jesse Williams (Hari Rhodes). Unfortunately, the movie doesn’t fully exploit the culture-clash potential of this dynamic, even though Rhodes and Rocco are both interesting performers.
          Rhodes, best known for his role on the TV adventure series Daktari (1966-1969), was a man of letters offscreen and, accordingly, brought eloquence and poise to his acting. Therefore, it’s a shame that Detroit 9000 give Rhodes one of his only leading roles, since he’s got nothing to do here but strive to retain his dignity while running through gutted urban locations and/or spewing bland dialogue. Rocco, a versatile character actor whose filmography includes everything from The Godfather (1972) to a string of sitcoms, provides a totally different flavor of authenticity, although he, too, is handicapped by an underwritten characterization. Among the supporting cast, Scatman Crothers does some energetic speechifying as a preacher; Vonetta McGee classes up a trite hooker-with-a-heart-of-gold role; and Herbert Jefferson Jr., later a regular on the original Battlestar Galactica series, shows up in full pimp regalia. The problem is that everyone involved in Detroit 9000, including second-rate blaxploitation director Arthur Marks, did better work elsewhere—so why this mediocre flick lingered in Tarantino’s memory is a mystery.

Detroit 9000: FUNKY